Dark Alter
by Omnia Blu
Summary: Alice Hart's sanity is tested as she faces the long, dark quiet of her cell. When the lights turn off, everything comes toppling down on her. One question is on her mind: Who is she?
1. Him

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip.**

He hummed a song he had long ago lost feeling for, the sound of it an echo of the passionate ferocity it used to be. It was now a mere thread, like him, holding on to the last fibers of his honor. 200 years after his birth, color and emotion had bled dry from him, left him a husk of his former self; once a dreamer poet with stars in his entrancing green eyes. If he could feel anything he mused he would feel much like the dead bodies that always surrounded the lair of his people's enemy, the vampire. They lay motionless, still, and pale as the moon...colorless and dreadful. Indeed, there were too many likenesses between himself, the dead, and the vampire he hunted by royal decree.

Some of those vampires had been friends. His friends. The first time he had run across Cedrik it had stung, for he was young when he had first begun to hunt the vampire. That initiatory battle had torn his heart apart more than the severe flesh wounds he suffered or the near fatal crater in his chest. These wounds would pass in time underneath the Earth that welcomed him. Now that heartache was but a memory as he faced down his partners, friends, and kinsman. After 200 years, he had lost his capacity feel much of anything besides the instinctual urge to carry out a duty that's true meaning was starting to cloud as the decades marched on. What was he fighting for?

As he craddled a farm worker in his arms, barely restraining the urge to kill this enthralled human, the concept of his Lifemate bubbled up in his mind. He calmed, letting go of the man and letting him slump to the moist forest floor. He had compelled him here so that he may feed. This grove he had chosen was not far from the nearest village so when the farmer woke up, he would be able to find his way home thinking himself shamefully hung over when that was the farthest thing from the truth. In the form of mist he put distance between himself and the mortal, eventually coming to hover over the dramatic, ice capped mountain range of the Carpathians. He felt as cold and solitary as they were.

Again, the word "lifemate" hovered in his thoughts. He was ancient, far past the time of redemption. After centuries of blood and destruction, he didn't feel himself worthy of a light. A lifemate, in his people's sacred ways, was their only way of regaining their colors, their feelings...their soul. Through bonding with a lady of light, the darkest seductions to kill and the vicious beast every male Carpathian housed within him, would be tamed and leashed. Through a lifemate, a Carpathian male's life would return to vibrancy and warmth. But here he was, on the edge of a knife, so close to turning into the undead. How could he ever be worthy of a precious female? He was far to cold. He should've greated the dawn a long time ago and ended his existence with honor. He didn't know why he hadn't already.

Was the hope of a Lifemate that strong in him that he had continued far past the conscious thought process of it, wandering around here and there clueless as to why he journied so? If that was the case, he wondered where this hope came from as he had not felt any such emotion for centuries.

Thinking on it too long was causing too many unlikable senarios and much paranoia. This could be the trick of the darkness luring me into it's grasp, he thought stubbornly. The darkness, the true beast inside him, had always taken different guises like a shitzophrenic shadow torture of the soul. He shook his head, closing his green eyes, and floated in the icy mist and clouds that wreathed the Carpathian Mountain Range. Silence greeted him for awhile as he tried to calm the violence that beat inside his brain to do the most evilest of deeds. He surrendered himself to floating, half tangible, half mist, thousands of feet up in the air with his arms spread wide open to the full, glowing moon. Moonlight poured down upon him, his only solace in this cruel and intolerable existence he lived.

Aurrik Dreamweaver would greet the dawn in the morning. He floated there in complete acceptence of his final choice. He let out a furious roar like it was his final plea for help.

But mysterious Destiny and tricky Fate had other plans.


	2. Her

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip.**

She wasn't sure if it was the quick and frantic beat of her heart in her chest or the sound of the thundering rain falling to the cement that pounded in her head. They had long ago become one as her focus narrowed and her vision got spotted and blurry-edged. Before her stood her rival and lover. But most importantly, he was her lover. His wild, devil-may-care grin and the wicked glint in his eye indicated he had the upper hand and that perhaps, she had bitten off more than she could chew. Her breaths were harsh, ragged even. She was finding it hard to stand after giving so much to this failing effort of hers. The rain seemed to enclose around her, each droplet hitting her body like a firm smack of reality that this was it. These were her last moments.

_His smiles, his laughs, his corny jokes. Her first date with him...a night underneath the stars, smoking pot. The moon was full. His eyes were so green..._

She managed a war cry as she lept into action, revived by a new fire to save him. Her knife firmly in her small, dexterious hands, she slashed at his throat. He deftly moved to the side with an almost supernatural speed, coming in to strike one of the many holes she had in her defense. She took the blow like a champ, using the steel that seemingly ran through her blood to keep her moving past the pain. She kicked out with her legs. Just barely missed him. He cackled, moving swiftly to land in a couple more jabs. Just enough to hurt but not enough to knock her out. He wanted her conscious for this. He wanted her to run and dance around. Her was playing with her the way they used to only now it really did mean life or death. Now it was serious. Tasting copper, she spit out some blood and it was quickly ushered away by the rain as if it had never been. In order to win this fight, she would have to keep going.

_"I love you." He would always say._  
><em>"I love you more." She would reply, usually with a grin on her face.<em>  
><em>"I love you most." He had to go the extra mile. It made her laugh.<em>  
><em>And they would both say...<em>  
><em>"I love you infinite times infinity squared."<em>

The girl moved just in time to avoid a punch straight into her nose. Her knife went hunting for flesh and found nothing. His fist went seeking and found sanctuary in her body. She whirled, enraged and passionate about her cause, and managed to break into his defense. In a matter of seconds she hit several pressure points on his chest where he had left them vunerable. He gasped, eyes widening as if he didn't expect her blows to hurt when they did. He sought to push her away. Her knife cut his wrist. The blood splattered into her face and stained the blade red. The blood seemed to burn on contact. And unlike most, her rival only laughed. He laughed and laughed loud enough to rival the roar of the torrent they fought in, on the riverpath where he and she had learned the disciplines of surviving together. That maniacle, psychotic laughter would've been enough to demotivate anyone but she...would not be discouraged. Because she was doing this for him. She had to remind herself that she was doing this for him.

There it was!

The opening she needed. She didn't question it, which was one of her many failings. In a world that took advantage of hasty, naive people, this girl had wandered into the wrong crowd. Though, she did try to keep up. But this world almost never rewarded effort-just pure, cold result. She found out too late that this had all been planned. After two years, her rival knew her thoughts more readily than she did. He easily disarmed her and blocked her blows, grabbing her by the throat and using her own momentum against her. He had manipulated the direction of the fight just so. And now they were very akwardly walking towards where the rivertrail fell off into the rushing river below. The violent waters slammed unmercifully up against huge boulders hard enough to crush bones. It roared like a demon at her. This was only just a couple of steps behind her now. She struggled but to no avail, clawing her tiny fingernails into his strong grip. She gasped and wheezed, becoming out of breath.

Just like that it was all over.

She didn't have the strength enough to fight him anymore.

After what seemed like hours that stretched upon hours, her body was broken and beaten with pain only numbed slightly by the cold downpour of November rain. She had failed him. In the end, she had been too weak. She should've stopped him the minute she had seen his behavior change from the person she loved to this hideous creature.

She should've shot him dead.

Her vision wavered. Suddenly she was hovering over the side of the rivertrail where it dropped off dangerously into the wild river below. A crack of lightning arched aross the sky. A yawning rumble of thunder answered it. Several more lightning strikes lit up the sky and seemed to form the shape of an eye. It lit up his imposing figure. Her once-lover's face was now twisted and gnaut, his teeth were sharp, bloody fangs. Odd. It could've been her imagination, the frantic pyschological death throes of a dying woman, but she thought she saw ragged teeth marks on his neck as if he had been bitten. Even odder. The skin around the bite was rotten and decaying. Maggots and worms had burrowed into the flesh, eating him alive. And his fingernails seemed claw-like, biting into her exposed neck. His skin was cracked and stinking. His eyes were glowing pits.

She wanted to scream but she couldn't. His claws were cutting off the final supply of oxygen she had left.

The earth seemed to rumble beneath her. He was a mockery of her lover now, growlling and moaning with his own self-satisfaction that he had won. That she was his, both in love and in hate. He drew her closer to his face so that she could see his eyes.

"Go back down the rabbit hole, Alice."

She felt herself falling. She reached out her hand for him. The last thing she saw was a pair of red eyes like hellfire. Why had she ever thought they were green?

The roar of rain and rushing water silenced her. The unimaginable numbing cold swept her up. A quick choke. She couldn't breathe.

Then...darkness.


	3. A

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip.**

Alice Hart woke suddenly as if from a fevered nightmare in a vast, white room without any entrances or exits. At least, she thought it was a room but now that she observed it, it appeared to be more of a dimension than a room. Everything was so white and bright that it seemed to glow, it's proportions were hazy at best. In fact, one could believe that this place went on forever and stretched out into the vastness of the universe itself. There was one thing for certain about this place though, she was sitting on a large, black leather sofa in front of a massive, wooden coffee table. And on that coffee table, carved with strange swirling runes, was a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass filled with ice.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

This was the first thing that was uttered out of her mouth. She wasn't stupid. In the last moments of her life she had been plunging to her death into her hometown's "Styx River" and now she was sitting before Mr. Jack in a large white somewhere on a sofa feeling quite disconnected to the whole ordeal. Things like this just didn't happen unless...you were dead.

"Good, at least I get a smart human this time around."

Startled, Alice looked up to see that across from her sat a twelve year old boy looking too cocky in massive chair that seemed more like a throne. He had delicate, almost fairy-like features that seemed to set the stage for being a prissy complimented by his outfit of an English school boy. He had sun kissed skin, the kind of tan Alice couldn't even dream of on her. She burnt so easily in the sun when she was alive. His hair was a pale, moonlit blonde that curled and framed his face. The only thing inhumanly different about this child was his large, almond-shaped eyes the color of molten gold which at the moment, looked suddenly bored. It seemed as if her moving through the stage of shock was too slow for him. Too bad she felt so disconnected or she might have been indignant.

This was a great time to drink. Because it wasn't like she was going to die from it anyways. She cracked open the bottle of Jack Daniels and poured herself a glass. She would've offered the kid some but she thought better of it. There was no other glass available for him and he was kid. What kind of person would give a twelve year old a glass of Jack? Probably a fucked up one. She vaguely remembered associating, just for a split second, with the feeling of being thrust into an evil world at too innocent of an age, where things like that occured. It didn't phase her all that much. That kind of thing happened all the time right? She took a drink. She was too dead to care.

"Right, so I think this is a beautiful time to start our little chat, savvy?" The boy questioned in a pert, English accent.

"Kid, I'm just going to throw this down on the table." She said, raising a single eyebrow while she took a drink. "You're way too young to be Jack Sparrow."

"And you're way too young to be drinking in front of a minor." He reprimanded. "Besides, it's already clear that I'm not even human or the age I appear or else you really WOULD be stupid. And we've already established that you are not. Indeed? Indeed.-He didn't even give her time disagree with this, carrying on in a quick, clear tone-So let's move on to the topic of discussion. We're wasting time and time is a valuable physical commodity these days. My name is A. It's such a pleasure to meet my new Contract."

Completely bypassing the simplicity of his name and the oddity it was, she went straight to the word "contract" and got stuck on it. She took another drink because for some reason, she wasn't really feeling it yet. And she felt entitled to being extremely drunk right now. She was dead after all. Very slowly and with blinking eyes she asked "Contract?"

"Very good! We're getting somewhere." The boy said sarcastically. Despite the roll of her eyes, he continued on. "You see, you're dead and you weren't supposed die. But you just can't help blunders. When things like this occur in the thing you call the Universe, that soul is mostly put right back in their body. But your body...well...there wasn't anything salvageable."

Flashes of her corpse broken and bloated around a bunch of boulders in the Styx bloomed in her mind. Her lifeless eyes were still wide open, glazed over, a frozen expression of sheer terror stamped upon her face.

"But don't worry, you're in luck. This thing happens sometimes so we set up something like a program for you souls." A wide grin grew along his face and it seemed filled with impish, childish wickedness. "We offer you a job. If you do it correctly, your reward is life again."

She stopped dead in her tracks. Halfway through her glass of Jack, she sputtered and choked. "My life...back?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

Alice instantly went on the alert, her dark eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. "What kind of job?"

"I'm so delighted you asked!" He said cheerfully. The smile on his face seemed to widen more like it was an open chasm ready to eat her whole. An edge of fear seemed to thrum through her. "Just some janitorial work. You know, things get messy and sometimes you need to just clean it all up."

"Seriously?" She asked, a bit incredulous.

"Just some cleaning up, that's all." The boy said honestly and simply. "In fact, I'll be there the entire time with you to help you. Think of it as some incentive. Me helping another being out. It's because I like you."

"I don't know if I like you yet." She replied just as honestly.

"You wound me!" He exclaimed dramatically, still keeping up that good English cheer.

There had to be an angle somewhere in this but right now, she couldn't concentrate enough to find one. Her thoughts were scattered and fragmented, unfocused. She would blame the alcohol but she hadn't drank that much had she? Looking down she realized that almost an entire glass was gone. When did that happen? A's youthful face came into view and with it, she saw that he had his small hand extended to her.

A handshake.

As if a simple handshake could bring her back to the times when her lover and her were content together. An echo of his goofy laughter pierced her like a spear to her heart for just a moment. She would give anything to have those times back again with him. It seemed like this was her only chance. Alice was dead and if she didn't take this Contract, who knows what would happen to her or where she would go. She didn't want to let go yet. For some reason, there was an urge...a will to hold on to the possibility of life again. Life with her true love in it. Was it hope, illusion, or denial? She didn't know. And she realized that she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that she hold on.

She narrowed in on the small hand and then back to her drink, shoving the thought of her lover turned monster away.

Alice took one last sip.

And shook A's hand.

"By the way, that drink should be hitting you right about now-"

**XXX**

Mikhail Dubrinsky had a very unexpected guest this evening.

Standing in his living room, escorted by his housemaid Alice who seemed to grow uncharacteristically timid, was Aurrik Dreamweaver. Mikhail's unfathomable black eyes widened. To the Prince's knowledge, the Dreamweavers were all but extinct. The only two remaining males left were rumored to have turned vampire. Just like with the finding of his beloved wife and lifemate, Raven, life threw at his race small miracles that gave him hope in this desperate fight for survival. He found himself smiling despite the situation for clearly, Aurrik presence here after so many centuries was not out of random. And he could feel the stark, predatory darkness that clung to him like an aura. It was such a tangible thing that poor Alice Ivanov, usually a very hearty elder woman, trembled and remained as distant as she could.

Mikhail's attention was now fully on the Carpathian male. He was Aurrik Dreamweaver, the little brother to Oberon Dreamweaver and one of the heirs to the great and terrifying gifts of their family. In the time of his father, the Dreamweaver family had been great hunters and in the Wars, the brothers had stood alongside Lucian and Gabriel. Although where Lucian and Gabriel had taken center stage, the Dreamweavers had seemed to enjoy working from the shadows. It was rumored, however, that in their youth both Carpathian brothers had been taught forbidden magick by a mage however...looking at Aurrik's face gave no indication if this rumor was true. There were no visible marks of evidence. His face was impassive and apathetic. Cold, green eyes unique to the Dreamweaver bloodline void of passion or warmth. Authority and mystery walked before him, power and strength were his. And Mikhail could see that he was loosing his battle with the beast inside of him.

"Please, sit down." The Prince gestured with an easy wave of his hand.

The living room was large, with a fire blazing in the modern-day hearth. Large sofas had been placed around the area with reclining chairs. Aurrik sat farthest from the light or warmth of the fireplace, choosing the darkness instead. Mikhail's eyes narrowed. He could see the beast rearing up inside of the hunter. This was not a good sign. It was a miracle that he had not turned yet but now, so close to the edge, the Prince of the Carpathian race had a very dangerous threat in his house. He barely concealed a deep growl, the instinctive protective streak of every threatened male Carpathian stirring. Suddenly the hand of his delicate and loving lifemate, Raven, touched his shoulder. He became balanced again. Raven had anchored his turbulent emotions with so much ease it never ceased to amaze him. She responded so generously and readily that it warmed his heart. He regained his focus.

"We had thought your family long lost to us. This is truly a miracle tonight." He said in beautiful tones, weaving a sense of calm serenity in those words.

Aurrik rose a single eyebrow, automatically picking up the scent of compulsion.

"I am not here to threaten your lifemate, my Prince." He said this simply, "I am here because I have served you and my race well but I cannot go on any longer. The beast, it threatens my life and the life of everyone around me. It threatens the entire world. Prince Mikhail...Prince of my people, release me from my duties finally so that I may greet the dawn."

So he had decided on his death.

Going on so long without the hope of a lifemate, he was willing to take his own life before endangering that of the human race or their mother, the earth. A noble streak ran through the Dreamweavers it was said and it showed right now in Aurrik's solid, resolved demeanor. He must've been thinking about this for centuries, alone and empty. This was truly a sad moment. One minute he and his fellows had regained a brother back and the next minute he was being swept up with the dawn's first light. Was there no way Mikhail could save him? Perhaps send him into the earth to slumber until the call of his lifemate woke him? Have someone, Gregori perhaps, anchor him so he would remain deep in trance? Or would that be too much for someone who had walked the earth for so long.

Perhaps it was better to let him go...

Sensing the thought in his head, Raven spoke up. Compassion and love filled her voice as she spoke to him telepathically.

_No, we cannot loose another to the darkness, Mikhail! He is someone's lifemate! There is a girl out there who needs him just as much as he needs her!_

It was a sad and unfortunate truth. Somewhere out there, a female would be lost to their race. And with one less female, the hopes of their survival lessened and lessened to almost a whisper. But Mikhail could sense intimately how close he was to turning and how much he had suffered because he had been there before. He had been right there in Aurrik's shoes once, holding on by a thread of steel reserve.

_He has suffered enough, my dear. I cannot refuse him release._

Raven continued. _Isn't there anything we can do?_

In response, Mikhail placed his much larger hand over her small delicate one. He sent her reassurance and the warmth of his love, that this was for the best. And indeed it was for it seemed that Aurrik had already decided either way. The Carpathian male was simply here out of deeply ingrained, old world formalities.

_He has already made his choice. There is nothing we can do except give him his honor._

"I release you from your duties, Aurrik Dreamweaver. The Prince of your people acknowledges the great deeds you have done for our people. We are most grateful for your valiant, unyielding service. You may greet the dawn in peace, brother."

There was a long moment of hushed silence where no one in the living room talked. Only the crackling of the fire interrupted the repose. Mikhail noticed how Raven clung to him, her empathy radiating off her. She had a small, disheartened frown upon her ivory pale features. Her pure, sapphire blue eyes were tearful. Her dark black hair was highlighted naturally by hues of blue. She wore soft periwinkle blue camisole with a cream, knit sweater that showed off her ample breasts and seductive curves. He made a point of reminding her how lovely she was every night when they rose and every morning when they went to earth together. When he had first found her, colors and emotions had returned back to him. He was truly grateful for the wonderful gift of life Raven Whitney had given him. He wondered with remorse how Aurrik felt, doomed to never experience these things again.

He saw Aurrik staring into the fire. To him it must've looked like varrying blotches of grey hues. The Prince had been there before. The ancient Dreamweaver warrior glanced over at Mikhail with his cold, electric green eyes that had all the mercy of the most frozen ice cave in the Carpathians.

The antique grandfather clock that decorated a part of the living room went off, striking twelve O clock midnight. It had been a gift from Savannah and Gegori. The clock itself had strong safegaurds woven on it with an almost hypnotic effect.

Unexpectedly, Aurrik's green eyes widened.

"My Prince, are you wearing a pink silk shirt?" The warrior asked.

Mikhail and Raven's mouth literally fell open with shock. Indeed, Mikhail was wearing the clothing his sweet lifemate had fashioned from the earth for him. Today she had chosen the most softest shade of pink. The two of them looked at each other and then to Aurrik who was falling to the floor, holding his chest and clenching his teeth in pain. They both gasped.

Aurrik Dreamweaver was seeing colors. And that could only mean one thing...

He had found his lifemate. A miracle had been granted to his people again! There was a chance to save him!

Mikhail sent out a mental call to the Dark One, Gregori, Savannah, and to his brother Jacques and his lifemate Shea. He sent out the cal of all those in their family area to come to his aid. Tonight their brother was in need and they could not deny him support.

...And somewhere in the world, the soul of Alice Hart woke in an unfamiliar body.

Her took in her first breath in an alien world.

_...Am I alive?_


	4. Chapter One: Life

_"I found myself in Wonderland,_

_Get back on my feet again,_

_Is this real?_

_Is this pretend?"_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip.**

**Chapter One: Life**

Twelve O Clock, midnight. The 'Tween Hour.

She took her first breath in an alien world. The action was strangled and desperate, as if she hadn't had air in an eternity.

"Patient 009 is now breathing."

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, reminding her of butterflies.

"Patient's pineal gland is dilating."

From the yawning depths of nothing, consciousness was slowly leaking back into her. It was as if she were clear water being poured back into a chalice. As her dark, chocolate brown eyes fluttered open they immediately became aware of bright, white lights above and the feeling of chilling cold that filled everything from her toes to the top of her head. She was instantly squinting. The light was painful. A sharp shiver ran down her spine as she became more aware of her body. She could discern pinpricks of pain everywhere.

"Patient's brain activity is increasing at an amazing rate."

_...Am I alive?_ Alice asked herself.

A low groan emitted from her and she felt her head fall limply to her side.

_Am I really...alive?_

Her vision fell upon a one way mirror. She could make out her reflection. The girl's face turned ashen.

Alice Hart lay completely naked, spread eagle on an operating table. Nothing covered her decency. Her large, soft breasts were exposed along with her sex, a nest of dark curls where her long, white legs joined together. Her arms and legs were spread apart, restrained by thick, leather straps. Besides her was an IV drip. She watched rich, crimson liquid fall from the clear bag and into a tube that ran into her arms. In fact, she bristled with wires and needles hooked up to machines that blinked and hummed. Suddenly a doctor passed over her in a sterile, white uniform that looked too bright in her surroundings. Vaguely, she was reminded of A but she wasn't even sure what was real anymore. She pushed the thought away. With quick, calculated precision he checked the nodes that were attached to her cleanly shaven head. There were so many, she couldn't count and gave up after what she believed was thirty.

Alice wanted to let rip a loud, terrified scream but she found that only a broken gasp came out. Like a kitten's mewling, weak and vulnerable.

The doctor began to speak in a scratchy, wheeze, dictating his notes aloud. She couldn't see to who or what he was rambling to. The girl could barely move her head much less her body. The voice of the man above her seemed excited, anxious, anticipating... She felt like he was waiting for something to happen. His tone belayed his motives as it reached pitches that held a surge of emotion. He gave a satisfied chuckle, undertones of evil ran deep at it's core. And there was a bounce in his step. "Wonderful, wonderful... After so many tries, this is it! Oh, 009 you're coming along quite nicely... Be good to me baby and bring daddy his pension."

_Oh god, am I in Hell? Where am I? There's so many...so many needles!_

Panick sprung up through her.

_Am...am I sick? What is he doing to me? I'm in Hell! It's all a lie, I'm in Hell! I'm not alive. This can't be life!_

"Patient's heart rate is increasing."

"This is it!" The doctor yelled, laughing gleefully. "Bring on the fireworks! Let's bring this Frankenstein to life!"

Her muscles began to twitch. Small at first, then to a crescendo, fighting the leather binds for freedom. This sent the monitors clicking and flashing their lights, feeding back information into the many computers that surrounded the tiny surgery room. Hyperventilating, she felt her stomach turn violently. Alice felt nausea swirl low in her stomach and advance up her throat. Something pure and alien moved inside of her, pulsing through her very blood like a battle cry. Fire claimed her body. It scorched her blood. Sweat trickled down her face along with her tears, feeling more like lava. The cold air around her became a balmy, sweltering environment getting hotter by the second.

_I feel sick..._

A power surge swept through the operating room, the lights flickering and dimming. The monitors that had been on, displaying information in clean Arial script, went black as the computers shorted out. A pop and crackle, the sound of hollering, the thick smell of smoke...and then the overpowering roar of the earth. The ground shook with fury, sending equipment and Alice to the floor. Lights flashed. Stars danced in her vision. Wave after wave of pain rocked her body until the earthquake and her torment were one entity. Alice's sight cleared just in time to see a couple of heavy, metal tables and assorted equipment launch themselves into the one way mirror, shattering it. A jagged piece of glass landed near her face. The rest of it spraying all over her,still strapped to the table, laying sideways against ruined computer towers, tables, chairs, and the crushed bodies of two female nurses. She groggily caught her reflection again...

Her eyes were gold and glowing like a will o wisp.

The room went dark. Her body was going numb and unconscious. The coppery smell of blood reached her nose.

"Get a fucking medic in here!"

Shouts and loud voices were heard along with the shuffle of feat. Flash lights scanned the room thoroughly. She felt a pinprick as another person in a white, lab coat approached her. Just a nip along her skin before her mind grew sluggish and dull. A warm haze filled her senses and she drifted into it helplessly. The drug injected in her guaranteed that she would be unconscious for the hours to come.

Alice lost her senses as a scene of utter confusion and destruction blossomed around her.

"Clean her up and put her in 001's cell. We can call this experiment successful, boys! We're back in business!"

**XXX**

As it had been the routine for many a night now, Julian Savage and Desari walked the beaches of Half Moon Bay after another successful concert at a small club she had grown attached to. Aidan, Julian's twin brother and powerful Carpathian hunter, had invited the couple and their family to come spend time in San Fransisco with him and his lifemate, Alexandria. Of course, it had quickly become an affair! Desari, Tempest, and Syndil were had grown giddy with it, driving all their lifemates up the walls with plans, schedules, and copious amounts of squealing and giggling. And exasperated Darius bitterly mentioned the quicker it came and was over with, the better. He still hadn't grown fond of the idea of being out in the open lest the vampire attack. This had earned him no points with the women, much to Julian's amusement. Darius was a fun object to poke at.

The women were ever the most vexing creatures on the planet, his lifemate being the most vexing. Desari, Syndil, and Tempest would spend nights chattering together, sharing their ideas for a "much needed, family vacation". Desari had booked several concerts around San Francisco. Just a handful and they were at small, obscure clubs that she had grown attached to. Tempest quickly latched onto the notion of catching a Giant's game to which Darius scowled, muttering under his breath about how he would tie Tempest to a bed. Very shyly, Syndil indicated that she wanted to feed ducks at Golden Gate Park. Of course, all of this would have to be worked around a nocturnal schedule with a constant, ever vigilant guard when they were out in public. Tempest seemed a little depressed, still trying to get used to their race's biorhythm when her instincts yearned for the sun. With her fierce independence, she was taking it rather hard. By the time it came for the trip to San Francisco, Darius had completely broke and promised to do whatever it took to make her happy.

The first night in Aidan's large estate had been bursting with emotions and feelings of joy and companionship. These were gifts Julian treasured the most. He knew that if it wasn't for his saving goddess, Desari, he would have been lost to his people and become the vampire. She had saved him a fate worse than death and spared him the shame of dishonor. Because of her, he was able to enjoy life again and save these moments as precious to him. Joshua, Alexandria's younger brother who was more like her son, had been immediately swept up by Desari who seemed to be very fond of him. Because of the young boy's hard life, he sometimes displayed maturity far beyond his age. His empathic llifemate's first response was to soothe any child, even if the scars were old. He couldn't imagine how she would treat their baby. Probably spoil the babe to death. Alexandria had given in and finally shown some sketches that had she was working on, getting compliments showered upon her. And as always, the urge to poke fun at Darius did not escape the Golden Twins who made it their duty that night to make Darius ragequit a game of monopoly. The twins had cleverly cornered the market and sent him to the poor house. It took Tempest calming Darius down to keep him from throwing the flimsy, cardboard game into the wall. They all stayed up until early morning, going to ground feeling elated that after centuries of despair, there was a glimmer of hope. And that perhaps it really was darkest before the dawn.

Now, weeks later, with their vacation coming to an end...his beautiful cara mia walked along the shore of Half Moon Bay wistfully, the night wind playing through her long, wavy locks of raven black hair. It trailed out long behind her like midnight streamers. She looked like an exotic, fairy princess in a fairy tale. Her dark eyes cast longing looks at the ocean waves that lapped the soft beach and set up the beat for the song that spilled out of her rosy, perfect lips. Notes made of purest gold and silver rose into the air, harmonizing with the power and magick of the Pacific. Her voice was that of an angel's, holding an unearthly quality in it's erotic, husky, feminine tone. Everything hushed in silence, hanging on every word Desari sung. An overwhelming sense of tranquility and peace overcame the beach, adding a dreamlike quality to it. Her siren's voice put Julian at ease but he sensed within her mind that she would miss this place and that she was sad right now.

_Cara mia, you will see this place again. As your lifemate, I will ensure this as truth. I can only see to your happiness. _

A crimson blush grew on Desari's face as she was interrupted from her song. Even to this day, he could still make her heart fly into a flutter with just the sound of his voice.

_Oh, I'm being silly Julian._ She gave him the mentally impression of waving her hand, as if shooing the notion of her being depressed away. _I know we'll be back plenty of times. But this is one spot I am attached to._

His lifemate swirled her toe in the sand. A fresh wave of sea water washed over her feet. She smiled, a bit embarrassed, and hoped Julian didn't see the erotic things she had in her head about this beach. The things she wanted to do to him. But as always, a lifemate could never hide secrets from another lifemate and he knew immediately. A lazy, sexy grin fell upon the softening edge of his lip. He had once owned very cruel lips. Since Desari however, that had changed. He wrapped her up suddenly in the iron bands of his arms and nuzzled her neck, grazing his fangs over her frantic pulse so that she moaned and melted like hot silk. His fingertips traced her cheekbone all the way down to her supple breasts, slipping his hand underneath the delicate silk of her dress's neckline. She responded to his every touch, as if lost in an ecstasy.

_My little heart, I-_

Julian never got to finish with that thought. The words were wiped from his brain as a ferocious wall of energy ripped right through the safeguards he had placed on this stretch of beach. Desari's calming spell lay shred apart. The impulse had eaten it alive like a monster. It shocked him into complete predatory awareness. He scanned the area, looking for the source of this disturbance but couldn't find where it was localized. Was it the vampire? Had a Master Vampire found them? He swore in fluent in Italian. He had been foolish and should not have let his lifemate out this night. Instead he should have kept her within the safety of his brother's home. But lately, he had been indulging in her whims. He cursed his irresponsibility. Julian's arms tightened around Desari as he provided her support. The tiny slip of a woman balanced herself with his help while she clutched at her chest. He felt the tight constriction of her heart and the painful struggle of her breath. He could feel her sharp distress. Julian sent her waves of reassurance and warmth. The demon inside him rose flared up, demanding he take action.

The sound of car sirens and cop cars howled in the very far distance. With his sensitive hearing he could discern the entire city of San Francisco had felt it. The reactions were mixed. But it had definitely spread chaos. With a grimace, he acknowledged how it knocked aside his safeguards like a toy. An ocean wave threatened to rise up and crash down upon them but with a mere thought, the Carpathian sent it away so it never touched them.

_Julian, bring Desari back to Aidan's house._

Darius's imperious voice popped into his mind, the authority in his voice was absolute.

Poor, sensitive Desari stirred in his embrace. There were tears in her soft, emotional eyes. He growled, cursing the mysterious flare of energy for burdening his lifemate with such pain during their private hours together. And grimacing at how this attack had thrown his powerful safeguards aside like toys. His golden eyes filled with molten, angry fire, he lifted himself and his petite wife into the air with ease. This was a bad omen. Desari continued crying as they disappeared into the night, Julian pondering the nature of this all.

"So much for the vacation, cara mia..."

**XXX**

Please feel free to leave your reviews.


	5. Chapter Two: Rebirth

_"Do not get me wrong I cannot wait for you to come home_

_For now you're not here and I'm not there, it's like we're on our own_

_To figure it out, consider how to find a place to stand_

_Instead of walking away and instead of nowhere to land_

_This is going to break me clean in two_

_This is going to bring me close to you_

_She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted_

_She is everything I want that I never knew I needed"_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip. I also do not own the poetry before every chapter. It should also be noted that the word "Inimioara mea" means little heart translated into english.**

**Chapter Two: Rebirth**

"I release you from your duties, Aurrik Dreamweaver. The Prince of your people acknowledges the great deeds you have done for our people. We are most grateful for your valiant, unyielding service. You may greet the dawn in peace, brother."

There was a long, hushed silence.

Raven's remorse hung in the air like a cloud.

He would never understand the mind of the female lifemate; how they could feel and express so openly the emotions that he could even barely remembering having. He never would. For a Dreamweaver, the curse was that a light never came. It was a vicious rumor that had originated in his village and spread wildly amongst the Carpathians in the very earliest stages of his life. Even Cedrik had poked that sore spot from time to time while they were friends together, a bit insensitive to the whole ordeal. His people were suspicious of his family, speaking in hushed telepathic impressions of the skeleton's in the Dreamweaver closet. The stories grew wings and flew! Pacts with Mages, forbidden magicks, and the mystery of his sister, Alin, who had disappeared without a trace. They said the Dreamweaver boys were cursed to walk the earth without a lifemate as a result of their unique, rare power. As a youth, Aurrik didn't grasp the true meaning of the talk. But by just analyzing his father and mother's expressions, he knew something was wrong. Their faces were always grim and strained in the presence of company. Even if his family was respected as nobel warriors gifted in weaving safeguards, they were never trusted and so he had learned to never trust himself. So after two thousand years of this, how could the very Queen of his people cry for him? Why would she do such a thing? He would never find out. His green eyes narrowed to slits, staring bitterly into the leaping, grey flames of the hearth. The Dreamweaver curse was true.

Finally, it was over. He had endured with his brother who was closer to turning than he, hunting the vampire relentlessly. Where his brother had taken to involving himself in war where the vampire was known to infect the human hearts of many, he had chosen various points across the globe that he patrolled regularly, moving when the threat was eliminated. Over the unfathomable decades, he had built up quite a forte of different lives. But all unfortunately, involved death... This was a routine he had come to terms with a long time ago when he chose the way of the Carpathian hunter. Each kill, each feeding, left him colder. The way of the hunter was a slow march into Damnation without a lifemate. Valiant or perhaps it was out of sheer desperation, Aurrik had tried to hold on to some semblance of emotion. But that was in his early youth, trudging through five hundred years where he was a traveling bard in Europe. The curse of the Dreamweaver bloodline looming on his psyche, he strummed his choice instruments desperately hoping to keep the darkness at bay with his music. Without emotion however, his songs started to suffer until all he knew was the battle cry, the warrior's chant, and the lesser healing chant for the times when his enemy had gotten the better of him. Ultimately, he had stopped doing anything altogether as the entire world became engulfed in grey. But now it was over.

Then finally, if to solidify Prince Mikhail decree, the old grandfather clock began to chime. On the first chime, he was filled with a sense of peace...

As the clock counted to twelve, it rang in his head. It was almost as if Aurrik were hearing sound for the first time. It's lulling, hypnotic tone reverberated through the solid muscles of his Carpathian body and shook it to it's very core. With each silvery note that hung in the air, the world started to get brighter. Vibrant and exhilarating color seeped into Aurrik's vision. Slow at first...at if it were hesitant. Just a blotch of rich, coco brown that stained Mikhail's long hair, the typical hairstyle of their kind. Like ink in water, it spread it's tendrils and dispelled the oppressing grey cemetery his life had become. It quickly illuminated the living room he sat in. He was leaning so precariously upon the comfortable leather furniture, hiding from the light. He could see that the carpet was a warm, creme color that complimented the forest green and gold wallpaper and the high, vaulted ceiling. It gave one the impression-however subconsciously-that one was in the deep woods of their Romanian homeland. He spotted the red oak, hardwood floors that reflected light off their high polished surface. The rich silver and gold inlay of the grandfather clock hidden in the dark corner, he saw the metal glinting the in sparse illumination. He gasped, breathless, at the beauty of fire dancing in the fireplace casting everything in a warm glow. And he stopped dead when he witnessed the pink silk of his Prince's shirt.

Aurrik's eyes widened.

On the very last, echoing chime of the grandfather clock, the ancient Carpathian hunter seasoned two thousand years, could see color again.

"My Prince, are you wearing a pink silk shirt?" He asked, incredulously. Not only was he skeptical but he was also taken aback by Mikhail's choice of feminine colors. Had his lifemate made him soft in his old age?

_A trick of the darkness?_ He reasoned.

Suddenly, his heart slammed in his chest. Incomprehensible! Aurrik could feel it thrumming back to life as if it had never turned cold and shriveled up. As if the cancerous plague had not eaten up his ability to feel. It throttled like an engine. Emotion blossomed all around the Carpathian male, overwhelming every shred of his sense. Aurrik's body tensed as a jolt of electricity blazed down his spine. Need, great need engulfed him and rocked him to his very foundations. He howled and roared, shaking the windows of the living room like the boom of thunder. The beast within him rattled it's chains to claim her instantly, to bind her to him for all of time with the ritual words that were imprinted into his genes. Aurrik's knees went weak like jello and he clutched at his chest. Wave after wave of emotion and sensation hit him, toppling him over. He remembered hitting the soft cream carpet floor, staring down at the neutral color as if it were obnoxiously bright and overwhelming. Tears streamed down his face. More tears than he had ever cried before in his entire lifespan. Realization rang out like a clarion call that there was a Lady of Light for him and that his soul would be forever anchored to the goodness of life. The Dreamweavers were not cursed! There was hope for him and his older brother yet!

_...Am I alive?_ The confused voice a young female was inside his head. Her voice was worn and raspy as if her throat was dry. Her voice wavered as if on the edge of a knife.

_My dear, can you hear me? Can you hear my voice?_ This woman obviously had gifts if she was able to reach out to his thoughts and speak in the way of his people. Perhaps she was Carpathian just as him. The concept fascinated him! The thought of a tall, elegant woman with raven hair and the stars in her eyes filled his thoughts. A woman who was submissive to her lifemate's needs, who knew that it was he who ensured her protection from all harm. A woman who was open and gave with soft tears in her eyes, her arms open and receptive to her lifemate's advances. A woman who knew the old ways of the world, who was classy and refined. For some reason, the image didn't ring true. In fact, he didn't feel an ounce of attachment to it at all.

He frowned and with much curiosity, realized that he hadn't heard an answer back. Certainly she had heard him. Aurrik had made his voice a husky siren's beckon. That, and what she had said quite frankly confused him.

Silence.

_Inimioara mea? If you do not respond, how will I be able to know you are alive? You must speak to me._ He said this, marred by concern.

Nothing.

Why wasn't his lifemate responding?

Pure quiet.

She should've heard his need and answered him by now!

Aurrik Dreamweaver rushed into action. Unlike his big brother Oberon, who unfailingly carried out his day to day existence even when he felt emotions, with calculation, Aurrik had lost his sense of control and reacted with haste. Without self control and with ferocious need crushing down upon his soul, he transformed his body into light and energy trying to seek the pathways to his beloved lifemate's mind with the full intention of destroying all which lay in his way. Much to his utter shock and horror, his astral body was flung out into a soupy miasma where all telepathic connections were met with static and cut off completely. He had never seen anything like it before in all his two thousand years! Carpathian or human, he had never seen such a barrier erected. He automatically suspected a Master Vampire's interference and grew enraged.

His lifemate was being manipulated by the vampire!

_What is the meaning of this?_ He demanded, furious, wanting an answer for why he could not connect to his beloved lifemate. She was his! There should be nothing in the way between their thoughts.

_Am I really...alive?_ The question repeated, spoken in her soft, breathy tones.

She broke his fury momentarily as he was taken by just the mere sound of her whisper. It gave him a sliver of stability amidst his unpredictable emotions. He was out of control right now by Carpathian standards. He was feeling the impact of two thousand years worth of emotions and the great sexual impulse the Carpathian male instinct had to mate, crushing his restraint and reducing him to a feral state where he was capable of great destruction.

What did she mean by if she was alive? Why did she keep asking that?

He fought the impenetrable haze as he would have any vampire, without mercy. It was not natural. Like a vampire, the cloud had it's vicious tricks and he found that it matched his efforts with vigor at every turn. This made his Carpathian blood boil over. Every mental trick, every spell he ever knew, every untapped source of power he possessed, was turned on this unholy obstruction. He would have it destroyed immediately! As he fervently wove spells of banishment with his spirit, desperately reaching for his lifemate's mind hidden within the intensely powerful, static cloud a soft, eerie laughter drifted into his awareness. It had seemed to be uttered from the very cloud itself. He knew this was not his beloved's voice. His green eyes, sparked with anger, and he roared in the face of the vampire that kept him at bay. It would not keep him from his mate for long, he vowed. He would have his connection with his lifemate as was his right! As if amused more laughter rang out, now more wholeheartedly, echoing in his mind. He was disgusted it would choose the guise of a child to manipulate his lifemate! This Vampire must have been corruption of the highest degree!

_Oh god, am I in Hell? Where am I? There's so many...so many needles!_

The foreign feeling of panic and powerlessness washed over him and he was struck dumb by the intense fear he was experiencing. Fear was a new feeling to someone such as him.

Visions threatened to rip him apart as they flashed unmercifully in his brain in a cycle. Over and over, stab after stab of pain invaded him.

Bright lights shone down on the form of a naked, nineteen year old girl. She was tied to an operating table. Her lips were an unnatural shade of blue. Her skin was too pale for a human's, revealing the dark blue veins, old scars, and bruises. The girl looked completely dead, limp upon the cruel, metal table of a human doctor. There were all manner of needles and wires hooked up to her as if she were a modern day electronic appliance. He watched her fear as if fell upon her pale, delicate, girlish face. The vision flashed to an image of the electronic clock hanging up near the door of the small operating room. Not missing a beat, it turned promptly to midnight. As if summoned by the midnight hour itself, the girl's dark eyes snapped open and she arched her back as she took her first gasping breath, suddenly alive.

Flickering lights. Then darkness and the sound of glass shattering, the thunderous roar of the earth consumed all.

_Am...am I sick? What is he doing to me? I'm in Hell! It's all a lie, I'm in Hell! I'm not alive. This can't be life!_ His lifemate wailed.

Her all consuming hysteria and riot of helpless confusion and stark panic was all he could discern among the violent mental screams in her mind.

_I feel sick..._ She finally murmured in his mind. The faint connection they did have was shorting out. He reached for it desperately, roaring.

Mikhail Dubrinsky's favorite comfy chair went hurdling through the glass of a large window, much to the Prince's annoyance. Outside, the wind howled and screamed violently, like devils tormented it. Hail and heavy rain poured down, quickly puddling on the hardwood floors of his house. Aurrik was summoning one hell of a storm with his flurry of new-found emotions. He was progressively getting out of control. It was very possible that he could be lost to them still, not entirely immune to the lure of becoming the undead yet. Without warning, he had launched the expensive lazy boy across the room, his claws decimating the fine, Italian leather. Mikhail's right eye twitched. The couch had sentimental value to him and his wife. The Prince of the Carpathian people thrust himself in front of his lifemate, Raven, protectively. In the blink of an eye, the Dark One Gregori materialized right next to him. Beautiful Savannah held her mother's arm and slowly escorted her backwards to keep her out of the range of danger. Shea was right there with them, her eyes on her lifemate who melted out of the shadows, a dangerous glint in his black eyes. Jacques joined Mikhail and Gregori with the fluid grace of a panther, standing before Aurrik as he howled and held his head in pain. His green, Dreamweaver eyes were turning red. His fangs were elongated. Outside, a whip of lightning lit the stormy sky. The answering rumble of thunder shook the Prince's house.

_Take him to ground, Gregori._ Mikhail commanded. _Send him deep into trance. This is all too much for him right now, he's on the edge of becoming the unholy. We must do all that we can for him!_

_I shall provide healing for our brother, as you command my Prince._ Came the deep rumble of Gregori. It didn't appear as if he had much to say, becoming even more introspective than usual as he watched Aurrik writhe around, maddened by the new transformation. Somewhere, Savannah perked up, tilting her head curiously.

Aurrik Dreamweaver knew a sleeping chant when he heard one and stubbornly threw up barriers. His Prince would not send him to Earth while his precious lifemate lay trapped in Hell! He needed to do something, anything to help her! If he lost her, all would be for nothing! His very life would cease to have meaning! He was so torn, helpless to go to her because every time he searched, he was met with the static that completely blocked him from her. Mentally, he battered himself over and over against this force only to be met with defeat. He was wearing down, not only physically, mentally, emotionally...but spiritually as well. His spiritual presence was growing weak. He felt so tired. He never remembered feeling so tired.

Gregori and Jacques pitted their wills together against Aurrik. Their deep, rich, earthy baritones adding pure magick to the spell they wove around the hunter who was loosing his control. Each lyric was meant to ensnare his turmoil and wrangle it back into control. Each deep, hypnotic note drained the blood lust from his mind, made him ever more aware of the comforts of what the Carpathian people's mother, the earth, could bring to him. He remembered the feeling of how the earth would welcome him in times of pain. How the rich, fragrant soil of the Carpathian forests was familiar and safe. His breathing slowed, becoming calm. The crimson hue of his iris returned to it's dreamy, mystic green. He collapsed on the cream-colored carpet, absently acknowledging the Dark One and the Prince's brother standing over him in his last seconds of consciousness.

_Inimioara mea..._ He muttered as he was dragged off, falling deep under the influence of Gegori and Jacques's spell.


	6. Chapter Three: The Gathering Storm

_Leave all your love and your longing behind,_

_You can't carry if with you if you want to survive,_

_The dog days are gone_

_Can you hear the horses_

_'Cause here they come_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip. I also do not own the poetry before every chapter. FEMA does not support the use of super soldiers. I hope.**

**Chapter Three: The Gathering Storm**

Sir Edward Michael Clearwater had never been one for indulging in myths. At a suitable age, his father very promptly sat him upon his knee and scrubbed all the little, childhood fantasies from his head. He did not believe in faeries or unicorns, miracles, or wishing upon stars. He believed in four things in this world. He believed in money, the progress of science, logical conclusion, and his fine, English tea to be promptly served to him every day at twelve noon. So when he heard Morrison rant about vampires the first time, in a fervent, fanatical zeal, he almost keeled over and died. Even more so when the nutcase suggested that they work together!

Knighted by the Order of the British Empire and Sole owner of InnerTech, part of a vast conglomerate of medical corporations across the world, Edward Clearwater was not short on cash. He had his mansions, his vacation homes, his yachts, his two week trips to Bali if he felt like it. He tossed money around like it was piles of leaves in autumn. What Edward Clearwater truly lacked in his life was leg up over his old man, who on his death bed told him that for all his trying, he'd never put to shame his father's success. He remembered staring down at his father's wrinkled face, his mouth agape, as his old man cackled for the last time and kicked the bucket. Fresh out of college, that single event had lit a fire underneath his ass. For the next twenty years, he spent his days laboring under his father's challenge, doing whatever it took to get to the top. When he had run into Morrison on his long and unsuccessful path to beating his father, he thought him nothing but a waste of time and clearly an unstable lunatic. Until the crazy showed him a videotape, the proof he needed. And suddenly it all became clear among the shocking revelations. Now Edward Clearwater believed in five things in this world. He believed in money, the progress of science, logical conclusion, his fine English tea to be served to him at noon, and...that vampires were going to help him stick it to his old man once and for all.

His footfalls echoed down the long corridors of FEMA, on American soil. The staccato beat was music to his ears. What years of hard work he had put in striving and searching now came down to this one crucial moment in his life where everything could turn around.

Edward Clearwater had not been fool. Like all things, he approached the task of making this venture profitable by doing the logical thing and excluding that little tidbit about hunting vampires. Instead, he packaged the KNIGHTS program to the outside world as an exclusive program, making breakthroughs in the world of medical science and psychology. Anyone would be lucky to have a chance to be in KNIGHTS. To FEMA he said he was building the super soldiers of a "better tomorrow". And that any government would be lucky to "hire" them. Both were true. The United States Department of Homeland Security had been more than willing to entertain the option of trained, biologically enhanced soldiers and immediately hopped on board the funding train along with most upper crust society members looking to get a piece of secret politics pie. In a sick way, Morison's vampire hunter society and FEMA had common interests. He couldn't blame Morrison, it was bred in his genes to be a fanatical ape but he had to wonder about those Americans...

He clutched the black, leather briefcase in his hand. Within it contained his current lap top, files, and everything he needed to make this successful. Looming like a phantom down the way was the door to the board room. And to the angry FEMA investors who threatened to pull their funding due to a series of rotten mishaps.

In the last six months, the KNIGHTS program had suffered major losses. Morison's vampire hunters, the muscle behind the KNIGHTS facility, were being picked off in units across the globe. Without an ample supply of security guards, their prized experiment 009 had gone on a rampage taking a good amount of men down with it to the underworld. He couldn't explain the truth of the situation to the Americans, how it was those damn vampires trying to foil him at every turn. How every night, more and more facilities burnt down, leaving a trail of bodies to cover up. But FEMA would believe a subject got out of control and flayed an entire hospital staff with it's mind. The things those Americans chose to believe! The death of FEMA's cash cow, 009, had made Homeland Security suddenly gun shy. They threatened to withdraw it's funding and shut down the program entirely. Clearwater had cursed the vampires with every bit of hatred he had in his middle aged British bones. And then the miracle happened...

Morrison had brought it back to life.

Clearwater didn't want to question the methods of how he had done it. There were some things he supposed Morrison knew that he didn't wish to ever think about. The reality that vampires existed was already bad enough for his sanity and his health! He didn't need to add more to the pile of supernatural mumbo jumbo that was cluttering up his peaceful life. But as he stood next to Morrison, peering through the one way mirror as 009 took it's first breath after three days being deceased, he really began to wonder what was the crimson liquid in the IV drip. And more to the point, how he could further profit off it. Morrison wouldn't give his secrets willingly. Clearwater ever so bitterly acknowledged that if Morrison had the ability to bring back the dead and run an international society of vampire hunters, that he had muscle. Right now, Morrison ran the show. And with 009's help, it would soon be his turn!

Rosy dawn light shone through the large, floor to ceiling windows of the corridor. How appropriate that this meeting be held in the morning, when the vampire was at it's lowest! It was an omen of good things to come-if he believed in omens of course! With confidence and good posture, Sir Clearwater entered the massive board and with candor immediately launched into an eloquent speech that was cut off.

"On behalf of Innertech and the KNIGHTS program, we truly apologize for all the set backs. We are a relatively new program and-"

"Get to the point, Clearwater." Interjected one of the many greying men with a large frown. He sat at the head of the board room table. "We've had enough of you jerking us around with your dreams of progress and your promises. With 009 dead, there's really no point to our funding you any longer than-"

"009 is alive. The KNIGHTS program is back in business with new data that could finally lead to the successful engineering of the perfect biological, anti-terrorist weapon." He chuckled as he set up his laptop and connected it to the wide projector in front of everyone in the room. With a quick click here and there, he brought up a slideshow made of images, diagrams, a couple of video clips, and cliff notes that seem to magically put the smiles back into everyone's faces. It put the smile back into him as well.

"I'm so glad you understand, Mr. Clearwater." Now with a smile on his face, the old man who had cut him off seemed all too compliant and civil. "It wasn't like we were trying to blackball you however, without the proper results, your program ceases to be an advancement for society and more of an abomination. We only support programs going on a moral direction."

He wondered how the older gentlemen before him didn't choke on his own shit. Everything that came out of his mouth stank of hypocracy and lies. FEMA didn't care about morals, they cared about results! And they were prepared to shut everything down if they couldn't get the ones they wanted. That was dirty, American politics for you. He hardly wanted to sully his English hands but ultimately, money talked. And so did the promise of victory over his father. This was just one step in his plans. He would have to suck it up for now.

"Let's talk about prices, now..." Clearwater said, smiling as all occupants in the room leapt into lively, animated banter and the world became a world of "yes" for him again.

Yes, this was the most crucial moment of Sir Edward Michael Clearwater's life and it did turn around, into his death. As he shook hands with all in the room, flashing false smiles and pleasantries with illusions of grandeur dancing in his brain, he had no idea what was coming for him.

**XXX**

Tempest Trine stifled a yawn as dawn's first light tinged the horizon, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She lay on the floor, snuggled up to two leopards, quite comfortable among the dangerous jungle cats. As if to proove how tame they were, one of them nuzzled her side, encouraging her to pet them. She did so absentmindedly, glancing over at her lifemate Darius who paced back and forth like a caged tiger in the large, luxury tour bus they lived in. Still very new to the lifestyle of the Carpathian race, being formerly human, the sun was affecting her the most as they waited for Julian and Desari to arrive back to them. She found herself drifting in and out of consciousness, the warm bodies of the cats lulling her further into sleep, while listening as Barack tried to calm her storming lifemate, Darius, down.

But he was too busy on a rampage.

Like his older brother, Darius Daratrazanoff, had a long history of having a bad temper. Although most Carpathian males had their tantrums, the Daratrazanoff boys had specialized in a very focused, brutal rage that was all their own. Sometimes he would glare, other times he would swear in fluent lines of curses in every ancient language that flitted across his brain, but always he would storm back and forth his mood devolving by the minute. The six person touring bus was far too small for Darius's presence as his mood flooded off him in large, billowing waves of Carpathian male anger and frusteration. It made Barack wince as he sat in the corner on the edge of one of the beds. And why was Darius angry today? Because almost twenty minutes ago he had ordered his sister and her lifemate to return to them and they still hadn't arrived. Barack could catch snippets of '_defiant_', '_rotten golden abomination_', and '_This is the last time I will let my sister around that_ ' buzzing around his head like a nest of wasps.

"If my sister and her infernal lifemate don't get here right now, I swear I'll skin that golden devil alive-"

Darius turned around to see Julian and Desari standing right behind him. There was an amused grin set on the blonde warrior's face, his molten gold twinkling brightly, as he held up his two hands defenselessly. "I love you too, brother-in-law."

"What took you so long?" He roared, demanding a good answer as to why they had defied his command.

"I forgot something at the Blue Dove, Darius. My purse. I'm sorry for worrying you all we just needed to quickly go get it-" Desari started but was quickly cut off.

"Woman, the vampire could have attacked you and you're worried about your purse! You put our whole family at risk!"

Hurt welled up in Desari's dark, expressive eyes. Syndil looked shocked at Darius.

Tempest awoke to the angry shouts of Julian and Darius as they contended with each other in another verbal death match which had become a routine. Darius's habitual insensitivity versus Julian's complex to challenge authority. Together the pair made sparks fly in a completely unromantic and ridculous way. From the moment Julian and Darius had laid eyes on each other, it had been like this. They had become rivals from then on, an endless headache to all who were attached to both of them. Barack had confided in Tempest one night, much to her amusement, that he sometimes wanted to shoot both of them in the knee cap with a cross bow just to shut them up. Unfortunately for Barack, that had come around to bite him in the ass later that week. Darius had said a little bird had come and told him. Poor Tempest couldn't block anything from Darius's sight. The tails of one of the leopards twitched irritatedly as Darius's voice rose over Julian's, causing Tempest to stand up and stomp her foot as she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Stop!"

A hushed silence filled the inside of the tour bus as all eyes fell on her. Even though she knew them relatively well, it being at least six months since she first met them all, she was still a little shy. A rosy blush spread across her cheeks and she averted her emerald green eyes downwards towards her shoes. "I mean, arguing isn't...going to get us anywhere." Tempest faltered, clearing her throat afterwards.

"I agree, we're all just wasting time." Barack stated.

Darius turned the full power of his black gaze onto Barack. For awhile, the two of them stared at each other, silently trying to make the other one stand down. But Barack's point had been made, they were just wasting time at this point and if nothing was done quickly, they could all be in danger. Darius took a deep, cleansing breath in and released it, clearing his tumultuous thoughts with Tempest easing the process. His lifemate brushed her mind lightly against his and it instantly made him soften and untense himself. Only Tempest could do that to him.

"That energy blast came out of nowhere from somewhere north of here." Julian dove back into the matter at hand. "It tore right through my safeguards as if they were paper."

Desari continued on right after her lifemate, "I felt so much pain and sorrow. So much anger and confusion. And then this wailing scream filled my mind! There was so much desperation in that voice... I think...it was a girl..."

"Or it could be the work of a Master Vampire." Darius said, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of a vampire threatening his sister, his family, and his lifemate made him instantly murderous. "We can never be too careful of the undead."

That was another thing Tempest had to get used to; the constant threat of vampires who wouldn't think twice to kill her or worse. She trusted Darius with her very life but conversations like these always made her very nervous. She was still getting used to the idea of her being able to shift into different animal forms much less the idea that she would always be in danger for being a Carpathian female. Unlike her, this family was used to this. They had endured centuries of fighting for survival against the unholy ones. It made her insecurities about it seem weak and petty. She had already seen all the horrible memories that lay in Darius's mind. He did not hide his mental scars from her. Some of it made her very soul cringe.

Julian nodded, "We still need to investigate this matter."

"We'll head towards Konocti Harbor. Desari will aid us by holding a concert. Julian and Barack will provide protection. This might lure out the vampire." Darius said imperiously to which Julian barely hid a sneer. The blonde-haired Carpthian did not like the idea of another male, much less Darius, dictating to his lifemate. He would have protested but Desari perked up at the idea of singing at Konocti, a favorite haunt of hers-and anything that made his lifemate happy he couldn't refuse. Darius had won...this time. His golden eyes narrowed.

And just like that, the musical troupe said their goodbyes to Aidan Savage, his beautiful lifemate Alexandria, and young Joshua who seemed to be growing up all too soon. Aidan and Julian shook hands firmly, his twin offering him aid should he need it on this mission. Julian gave him a grave nod before entering the bus with Desari, waving to his twin. In what seemed to be like a blink of an eye, they were off! Going on another journey spurned by the secret war they all waged against the vampires and the humans that hunted them. Just like that, life had thrown in a curve ball and turned their family vacation into a vampire hunt! Tempest didn't think she would ever get used to that. Their tour bus was flying down the highway, eating up road, and leaving San Fransisco in the dust. She stared up at her handsome lifemate Darius, a solid wall of muscle constantly by her side, and went to speak.

_No, you may join in the hunt with me._ Darius growled the answer telepathically through their private connection before she asked, immediately shutting her thought down.

"Hey Darius," Julian spoke up suddenly after a long moment where he had been quiet. "Your brother just told me Aurrik Dreamweaver returned to our people this night and found his lifemate. They had to send him to ground."

Darius rose a single eyebrow. "The name sounds familiar."

"His brother is Oberon Dreamweaver." Julian answered.

"Oh..." The Daratrazanoff said.

"He says Mikhail is sending aid in the form of himself and Savannah, to investigate a possible link between Aurrik's lifemate which the poor fool can't connect to, and that wave of energy we all felt over here. Aurrik regained his colors at the exact same time we felt the surge. I told him Desari had heard the voice of a female crying out."

"Oh..." Came the most seething, displeased response from Darius yet. It would appear that the only thing he loathed more than Julian's company was the company of his older and much more feared brother, Gregori. Gregori, who was likely more than able to hand the hot-headed hunter's ass to him on a platter, twenty different ways. The thought of Gregori putting Darius in his place made Julian smile.

Julian's golden eyes twinkled and he nudged Darius with his elbow. "It'll be like one big happy family vacation, right? Let's go for a baseball game."

Darius snarled and snapped at him. Julian wanted to take a picture. Good thing he had a photographic memory.

Tempest laughed wholeheartedly along with everyone else on the bus. This was a good memory, something she would keep forever. Her eyes trailed out the front window and onto the open road that stretched before them like a twisted grey and yellow ribbon. She took in a deep breath of air. Despite everything, the danger and the sacrafices she had made, she loved this life. She loved this family. It was quickly becoming routine and she fit in quite nicely to it all. She could get used to it as long as Darius stood next to her, her pillar of strength.

Tempest had no idea that it would get crazier.

**XXX**

She had woken up screaming.

In bits and pieces, Alice remembered falling, A, the deal, waking up on an operating bed, an earthquake, and most importantly who it was that had caused all this. Now huddled in the darkness, clinging to a corner of wherever she was, his face constantly reappeared in her mind unwanted, unbidden. From being the soul mate she once knew to the monster she had fought by the Styx river, his looming aura whipped her like a devil on her back. Her eyes darted around for the longest time, seeing faces and foes in the inky blackness. She couldn't decide what was worse, being engulfed in light and helpless as you confronted your enemy completely vulnerable or cowering in the darkness, trembling against imaginary foes thinking the corner would save you. In either option, you were both blind. She felt like a knight without armor in a savage land. Alice wondered how much of this all was real. It was starting to not even make sense anymore. Maybe she was crazy?

"You are most certainly not."

The minute the thought entered her head, a familiar voice responded back through oppressive shadows, and the entire place was illuminated as if on cue. Her hands went up to shield her eyes, pupils dilating. For a minute she was disorientated, trembling as she clung to the corner for protection.

"We don't have all morning, Alice."

With trepidation, she lowered her hands, moving them away from her watering eyes.

A large, white padded cell greeted her. It was big enough for one to pace around in but small enough to where one still felt boxed in, with the walls staring down at you. There was a single cot, a metal toilet, and sink in the corner, a small mirror was fastened to the padded wall. She noticed that it was encased in plastic with no sharp edges. Several cameras were placed in the room, one was aimed at the mirror, a red light blinking. One was aimed at her. Alice stared up desperately into the shiny black lens, terrified of who was on the other side. Devils, demons, Satan himself?

The impatient snapping of fingers startled her out of the spinning, crashing world inside her head. Her entire world had been turned upside down. Previously overlooked until now, a familiar face sat upon the small, single cot. twelve year old lounged carelessly, tapping one of his bare feet upon the carpeted cell. The agitated tick coupled with the ever-present expression on his face that he was bored, lent to the imperiousness of his tone as he said "Time is ticking...away..."

"You..."

Something must have snapped deep in her brain because Alice lost all fear and ran across the cell, picking the boy up by both her fists. She held him by the front of his white turtleneck right up to her face. Usually, she didn't have that kind of strength but with her adrenaline pumping and the hammering beat in her temples telling her to pummel him bloody, she lifted him up to her eye level no problem. Violence burned in her dark eyes like a smoldering ember, one of them twitching ever so slightly. Her face scrunched up along with her fists, her knuckles going white with how tightly she squeezed. She pulled A closer to her face and screamed. "You lied to me! You sent me to hell you little limey bastard! There's no job! There's no life! You tricked me! Unless I'm crazy. I'm in a hospital, I must be crazy...and this is all just in my head... Yeah, maybe that's it. Maybe this whole time I've been crazy and..."

Alice released the material of A's shirt, letting him fall back onto the cot. She looked panic-stricken. The prospect of being crazy seemed worse than being in Hell.

"This is not Hell." The twelve year old was taking these mood swings all in stride, with a calm reserve that was almost unnatural. He brushed invisible dirt and dust off his shirt and picked at a stray piece of lint. "This is the Blue Star Center of Theory and Research in California, run by InnerTech and the Morrison Foundation. You're underneath it so you might as well be in Hell."

"So...this is on earth? I'm alive? This isn't a hospital?" Alice asked hopefully, the anger of before put aside for a second.

"Correct."

"Oh, thank god." She said, relieved.

"This is a laboratory." He added.

"Why the Hell am I in a laboratory? Oh god, I just want my old life back... This isn't my life! You promised me my life back! You lied to me!" She whined, going through another meltdown with all ranges of emotions. From rage, panic, despair... Alice quickly raced through them all in a scattered, fragmented flurry.

"Perfect place to get back on topic. I'm insulted you think I lied to you. This is your clean up job-"

"Clean up job? Is this a game to you? I'm in a laboratory and I'm a fucking experiment! Oh god, oh god, I'm an experiment! I'm a fucking...oh fuck, the operation room! They did something weird to me! What if they took out parts of my brain! I never said you could fucking take parts of my brain, A! That's not what I signed up for!"

"That would probably explain a lot right now if they did..." A sighed shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Then maybe you'd have an excuse for acting so retarded."

"FUCK YOU!" Alice whirled upon him, releasing a surprisingly potent line of curses. She had a talent of stringing together long, detailed profanities of every sort into a stunning mosaic that would've silenced any seasoned fisherman-even the Irish ones. Her father had once mentioned that it came from his side of the family. That it was well bred into her blood to be a stubborn, foul mouthed, jackass. "This is all your fault! My life is not your game!"

"Right... Well then." The twelve year old said.

"Go away!"

"If that's really how you feel..." A trailed off, lingering on top of the bed, a bored expression on his face. She hated how casual and nonchalant he was about all this. She hated even more that he looked like a little boy so every time the thought crossed to punch him, she hesitated. The best she did was lift him up by his shirt and intimidate him and thinking back on it, she felt bad about doing that too.

"It is really how I feel!" She yelled stubbornly.

"Looks like we're saving this chat for later."

"How about never!" She offered, flipping him off.

A look of supreme boredom fastened upon the twelve year old boy's face as he seemed to stare through her with his strange, gold eyes. In the blink of an eye, he had completely disappeared. Alice stumbled backwards, her heart pounding. She blinked, shook her head, and rubbed her eyes, looking again at the cot to make sure if she had been hallucinating. Who knows what kind of drugs this freaky place had her on! To her dismay, she hadn't made it up. Somehow, the twelve year old boy had the ability to materialize in and out of places as if he were a ghost. This defied all her senses of logic. From her old life, which seemed more like a dream now, there had been no magic and no pacts with the devil, no evil scientists and no operating rooms. There had only been cold, cruel, reality that challenged you hold on every day. And that world's certainty was much better than this one's unpredictability. Suddenly, nothing seemed real in this new world she found herself in. Maybe she hadn't died. Maybe she was just in a coma in a hospital somewhere and her boyfriend was standing by her as she dreamed this all up. That whole fight and him transforming into a monster was just a silly hallucination because she had a stroke or something... That reality comforted her more than this uncertain, unnerving one.

"Keep dreaming." He snickered.

She whirled around, angered by the mere sound of his snotty, bratty voice. A was leaning against the door frame that almost seemed to blend into the padding of the walls. The only thing that gave it away was a small slit of a window that allowed almost no real view of the outside world save if the light was on or off. "Let's get one thing straight, I didn't lie to you. I said your reward would be life if you completed your job correctly. I didn't say what life or in what conditions your life would be restored. Welcome to life anew, Alice Hart...or should I say Aubrey Rose in this world?"

Alice's turned ashen. "...This world?"

"We gave you life so now you have to complete your job or else your soul is mine to eat. And then you really won't have a chance to see your boyfriend again. You'll go straight to the dark."

"What did you say?" She panicked, feeling completely helpless. And she really was completely helpless in this moment, just too stubborn to admit it and maybe too proud to ask for help. She longed to cling on some vestige of control in a place where she was stripped of her own.

"If you don't want me to eat your soul the first step to getting this job done is getting out of this door and to freedom." The boy gestured to the door next to him with a flourish of his hand like he was displaying the spinning wheel in a game show. "And trust me poppet, you're not getting out of this door without my help. You don't have a bloody chance in Hell. You're lucky I'm even doing this for you."

"...You'll eat my soul?" She squeaked soberly.

"From the inside out." He affirmed, no mercy in his deceptively youthful face. "Another little tidbit you might want to consider is the nurses on their way to sedate you. You see, there's cameras everywhere and your violent outbursts haven't been seen kindly. You might want to start off with schizophrenia when they ask you about it in group later. No one can see me but you. Just some things to think about while you take your nap. We'll chat later. Tootles for now."

Before she could say anything more, A was gone. And before she could run anywhere, the nurses were upon her.

She let out a strangled sob and a cried out for her boyfriend.

Alice would come to realize that in this world, her boyfriend never existed. And neither did she.

**XXX**


	7. Chapter Four: Maybe I'm crazy? Probably

_I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind,_

_There was something so pleasant about that place,_

_Even your emotions have an echo in so much space,_

_And when you're out there, without care-Yeah, I was out of touch,_

_But it wasn't because I didn't know enough,_

_I just knew too much,_

_Does that make me crazy?_

_Does that make me crazy?_

_Does that make me crazy?_

_Possibly_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series. I claim no ownership of any cultural references or historical people that may or may not be mentioned. I only own my OC. With an iron grip. I also do not own the poetry before every chapter.**

**Chapter Four: Maybe I'm crazy? Probably.**

_"Babe, you're taking up all the covers."_

_"Huh? Wha...do you...mean?" She asked groggily._

_Shafts of morning sunlight pierced through the small, disorganized clutter of a very familiar room. Alice woke, her face planted firmly into a stained pillow, drool forming a puddle by her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open blearily. A large TV displayed the paused screen of Persona 3, it glowed softly along with the lights that blinked from the Playstation 2. In her hands was the majority of a red comforter that lay over her body and as she took in a deep breath, she went rigid instantly recognizing the scent that permeated off of it. Someone's body shifted behind her, gently tugging the blanket out of her hands to be more evenly distributed. Her heart pounded strong in her chest as his arms wrapped her up into a familiar embrace and nuzzled his nose into her neck. Her body fit perfectly into his. She could feel his warmth all around her. A tear ran down her cheek as hot breath tickled her neck "You elbowed me all night and rammed me up against the wall, you bed terrorist! Was it nightmares?"_

_Upon usage of their old inside joke on sleeping together, tears streamed down her face as Alice realized that she was back in her boyfriend's bedroom with him wrapped up in her on the bed they made love on. Outside she could recognize the sounds of Valley Junction just waking up, the kids yelling back and forth to each other as they roamed around in crowds trying to entertain themselves on a warm, Saturday morning. Most were going to the Ruins, a popular hang out spot for juvenile delinquents to smoke pot, drink, and create an eden of debauchery. Everything was as she remembered it a month ago. The leopard and tiger print curtains were hung up precariously, keeping most of the harsh ten O clock sun out. Electronics lay in piles on the floor, on top of each other, twisted in with cables and multiple plug outlets that were all taken up. A half-eaten bowl of Bush's baked beans lay next to a pack of Marlboro red one hundreds, a zippo lighter, and a black game controller next to their bed. It was almost as if nothing had ever happened, the strange night where her lover had changed and the fight that lead to her death. Alice started to sob._

_"It was the nightmares again. I'm sorry, babe. Next time I'll protect you better." Came the response as his body firmly coiled around hers and he held her closer. She felt one of his callused hands brush the top of her head. His soft lips planted a kiss on her neck._

_"I can take care of myself." She responded suddenly, surprised as the words seemed to slip right out of her mouth._

_"Babe," He whispered. "Sometimes you have to ask for help. Sometimes it's okay to let people help you, like me. You'd let me help you, right?"_

_"Well, yeah but..." Alice said, reaching up for her Android phone. As always, her phone was going off with multiple ring tones indicating text messages, missed calls, facebook alerts, and Metro advertisements from her cell phone company._

_He grabbed her wrist as she picked up her cellular device. His fingernails bit into her flesh like knives. Alice cried out, her Samsung Admire falling out of her hands and to the cluttered floor. A thick line of crimson blood ran down her arm, seeming to underline the stylized lettering of a huge tattoo she never remembered having. 'Alpha', it said. Alice turned in his embrace to stare in horror at her boyfriend who had now become the stuff made of her nightmares. He stared back at her, eyes glowing pits of red. In his clawed hands was a simple hand mirror that he held up to her face."You'd let a monster like me help you? Don't you know you're a monster yourself?"_

_She saw gold eyes reflected back at her. Those were not her eyes!_

_"Wake up, Alice."_

**XXX**

She didn't know how long she lay, curled up in the darkness of that cell. Time seemed to stretch on forever, an endless procession of minutes that yawned on for eternity. Stuck in her head and deprived of sight in the looming shadows, Alice was forgetting her sense of reality. The sedative that she had been given was still casting a heavy curtain over her thoughts making them slow and hazy so that the last month and this moment blended in together like chocolate syrup and ice cream in a malt. She shivered, drawing herself in tighter. The dream replayed in her mind.

Last week, she had awoken happily in her boyfriend's bedroom of her hometown, Valley Junction. Curled up into him after another dreadfully long night of playing video games, she had the security of his arms around her and the knowing that this would last forever if they tried. Alice recoiled at the word 'forever' now like it was a slap across the face. Tears streamed down her cheeks and a fresh howl of sorrow escaped her lips. The sound flew out into the void and vanished without a trace.

Forever. From the first moment they had locked eyes, they had talked about forever. This was after beating the shit out of each other first, of course. Their romance had begun with a spark of rivalry that ignited a firestorm of passion. He was persistent and demanding. She was stubborn and had a problem with people throwing their authority over her. (she would often say it was bad enough that his older brother acted like her guardian at inconvenient times) Neither of them would submit their loyalties until their closest friends, their only family, had gotten them drunk and abandoned them together for a night on their own.

A fight to the death had ensued in her dead great grandmother's field, on the property of her empty, childhood home. And at dawn, after they had tired each other out neither of them landing a fatal blow, they had collapsed in each other's arms and the only word between them was 'forever'. That morning, they had spoken it like a reverent prayer. They had gone on nearly a year and a half now, spending most of their time together in each other's company using that word. It was the castle they had built together. And now some British brat by the name of A was kicking down their sand castle.

Their relationship hadn't been an easy one either. It was as tumultuous and unpredictable as a wild sea. Both had experienced trauma in their past. They had problems communicating, him preferring to let his impatience and anger boil over while she had grown introverted and reclusive. As many times as they bounced back and forth with each other, they had returned days later ruefully. Neither of them had ever been truly able to move on so they continued back at the beginning of the argument that had split them apart, apologizing about bad behavior and bartering with each other on how to make it work. After awhile, his temper had just started to even out while she felt exhausted but refused to let go of what she had. Because what she had was her twin flame, the man of her dreams and she wouldn't let that go for anything...would she?

Horrified now that she thought on it, Alice recalled the exact wording of the deal she had made with A.

_"We offer you a job. If you do it correctly, your reward is life again."_

_"My life...back?"_

_"In a manner of speaking, yes."_

The words now chilled her to the core. He had never agreed to restore "her" life back only that he restore life back to her. A had not lied to her at all. She had been willing, so willing...

_"What kind of job?"_

_"Just some janitorial work. You know, things get messy and sometimes you need to just clean it all up."_

She had shook A's hand!

So fast it made her question her motives! Had she really been so ready to release her hold on her love and her life as Alice Hart? Had she really let go of her friends and her hometown of Valley Junction to the whimsies of The Devil? (which is who she was starting to think A was) Alice remembered how A had menacingly told her that he would eat her soul. How if she didn't follow through with her end of the bargain, she would face eternal death. She had made a bargain for her life, a contract with him after he had told her she was dead! And Alice had believed every word of it like a child! What if she wasn't dead? What if she had been sleeping and now it was too late to go back! Alice had naively walked into a trap without looking at the strings attached as usual! Horrified, she realized that she might have just given up 'forever'. How could she have done that?

Another broken howl of bitterness and sadness burst forth from her as she rocked back and forth in the fetal position in the pure darkness, her mind fragmenting under the guilt, stress, and consequences of her actions. The girl shivered uncontrollably as feelings of loss, fear, hysteria, and maddening grief ate at her. Tears stained Alice's cheeks. Now she had no choice but to comply or else she was dead.

But wasn't she dead now without him?

_"I said your reward would be life if you completed your job correctly. I didn't say what life or in what conditions your life would be restored. Welcome to life anew, Alice Hart...or should I say Aubrey Rose in this world?"_

_"...This world?"_

And then a thought hit her.

**XXX**

_'Welcome to life anew, Alice Hart...or should I say Aubrey Rose in this world?''_

The endless number of hours spent in complete and total darkness was a test of her soul.

After crying the very last tear she could shed, Alice crawled around blindly for the next fifteen minutes trying to find her cot. Once she climbed gingerly on top of it, she had a long time to think. The gears and wheels in her mind turning in a frenzy, the time carried on without her barely noticing. Every so often she would switch positions on the uncomfortable, springy bed. The metal would squeak as she shifted and it was the only thing that broke the heavy fall of silence. It was the only thing that brought her back to reality as she went surfing in an endless sea of imaginings that tempted her deeper into vivid delusions so that she lived whole lives in her mind and died thrice over. Absentmindedly, without realizing she was doing it, she began to sing in a wavering little whisper. "Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun. And it's no coincidence I've come and I can die when I'm done. But maybe I'm crazy..."

Just when she was about to forget the light altogether, her cell was suddenly illuminated.

Moving so fast her pillow toppled off the bed mattress, she made a dash for the metal sink and the object of all her anticipation: the mirror. Hesitating below it, balancing on the balls of her feet, she looked up with hopeful, chocolate brown eyes. She knew she was bald. Alice remembered the operating room and her blurred reflection in it. She had run her fingers over her smooth head in the shadows, crying for the loss of her wild, curly waves and spirals of dark brunette hair. Sure, her face was a little too chubby and her body was entirely too curvy but at least she had her hair. People had told her that her hair was pretty. Well, turns out that this time around, she didn't. The Devil had taken her boyfriend, her old life, and her beautiful hair away. Looking up into the mirror now with hope, she pushed away the thought that this was ridiculous and proceeded on with wide, chocolate brown eyes.

When strange, tawny gold eyes stared back at her she drew back and let out a short, startled scream.

Her face was completely different. She had high cheekbones and delicate features that made a mockery of her old, round, chubby face in their beauty. Her lips were rosebuds, full and inviting where previously they had lacked. Her skin was ivory, almost seemingly luminous. Alice remembered being a bit olive complexioned, never having the flawless alabaster skin of her mother. Her body was thin and petite, a small waistline and slender curve of the hip. The only semblance to her old self was in her short stature, merely a couple inches taller than her previous four foot eleven inches. Stunned, she noticed her eyebrows were perfectly formed and pale, platinum blonde. Even more so when she realized she wore a silver metal collar around her neck and had an elaborate henna tattoo of gold ink that covered her face and down her neck, completely engulfing her right arm. The world 'Alpha' was boldly written there for her to see. Just to see if it was real, feeling like it could be a dream, she brushed her one of her brows with her thumb and began to cry. The girl shoved herself away violently from the sink and the dreadful mirror. The mirror was telling her lies! She had brown hair! Not blonde! She didn't even resemble this airy, delicate slip of a girl. How could Alice have been Aubrey in this world looking so unlike her? Was there no hope...

No hope that maybe in this life as Aubrey Rose, he was waiting for her?

Looking like this, she highly doubted it. She didn't even know who that was staring back at her in the mirror. It was so alien, so foreign. It most certainly was not her... How could it be her? Was there no hope, no mercy that she might be reunited with him?

How was she going to keep living without him?

Alice flung herself across the room, stumbling, and with the momentum slammed her body against the door. Her hands formed into tight fists that she used to pound and beat on it with. But since it was padded, it absorbed most of the noise. Over and over, she threw her fists into the door in a psychotic, terrorized fit. She begged to be let out, but mostly she asked the same question "Who am I?" in a desperate, panicked tone. As time ticked on and she was ignored, Alice started throwing her body against the door. The girl didn't care how much it hurt, the pain reminded her she was real. As her mood devolved, she scratched at herself as if trying to rip off the tattoo that was so alien and foreign from her. It represented everything that was wrong, had ever been wrong... Eventually she started drawing blood. It smeared along her luminous, pale skin, coloring it.

"Who am I? Answer me! Who am I? Am I Alice? Am I? Tell me! Fucking tell me, goddammit!"

The light turned off suddenly and she was plunged into darkness.

"Am I Alice? Am I Alice?"

Her voice echoed long in her head after it died on her lips.

"Bring him back!"

**XXX**


	8. Author's Note!

Author's Note: My apologies for not continuing this story. Life caught up with me but now that I have more time, I will continue. 


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